


Mouths

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Creepy, Drabble, Gross, Obsessive Behavior, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1826434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roose leeches himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouths

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tendervittles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tendervittles/gifts), [thatgirlwhodraws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlwhodraws/gifts), [Thrumugnyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrumugnyr/gifts).



He doesn't like having his leeches mixed. One of the thick black ones has ended up with the larger translucent ones. It doesn't truly make a difference but it just bothers him on principle. It's an obvious mistake, an over sight. It should not be there. He removes it first.

The leech wriggles as he holds it in the pincers. As it draws closer to his leg, it reaches for the skin reflexively. It burrows in the first moment it makes contact hungrily suckling at his thigh. It's ill placed, but is already swelling with bad blood.

He lowers the next, one of the clear ones, down onto the crook where his thigh and groin meet. The black leech is already growing plump. As he adjusts the new leech, two creatures brush against each other briefly. His lips purse. The thought of them touching is jarring, slick bodies squirming against each other, both alike in some ways and yet unfitting besides each other.

He looks aside a moment. The bad blood flows through him and into the two leeches. It calms some of his disquiet. He looks back. They're touching again.

It feels a foolish thing to be bothered by it, so he forces himself to look this time. Their lengths brush against each other, the translucent one flushed pink with blood. He stares, he stares so long it begins to lose meaning. Roose's eyes are pale and his face is fixed. His clothes are folded and to the side of his chair. He is undressed. Two leeches feed from him. 

What he likes the most about being clean is becoming free. The bad blood flowing his roused him or at least his body, but he feels no need to act on it. The leeching will alleviate him.


End file.
